Dying Embers
by astraeos
Summary: RemusTonks oneshot, set between the pages of HBP. “I can’t,” he said simply. “I couldn’t survive a day without you, Tonks—but I couldn't live an hour knowing that there was a possibility of me hurting you.”


**Disclaimer:** I do not own either Remus or Tonks, wands, spells, or the Order headquarters. I do have fire, however...

**A/N: **This fic was written for **Keladryie**, who asked me to write a Remus/Tonks fic--I hope she likes it!

It is set somewhere between the pages of _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, _I'm not specifying where, and I've tried to keep both Tonks and Remus in character. Hopefully I've succeeded--but you must judge:

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He had been sitting before the fireplace for hours, the only movement in the room the slight rise and fall of his breathing and the slow sweep of the clock's hands, its soft ticking only serving to emphasize the silence. She knelt just outside the room, hidden by a Concealing Spell, her gaze tracing his firelit features, one hand unconsciously raised as if to brush away the furrows on his brow and the worried expression that had deepened since Sirius' death. His lips were pressed together, as if to suppress words that could not be said, his hands were locked around his knees, and he seemed to be staring into the heart of the flames—but she knew, somehow, that he was seeing something beyond the flickering tongues of fire, something that none could see but himself. It took effort to hold herself back, to keep from running to him and holding him in her arms, telling him that she was there for him and that he could spill his heart out— 

"Tonks." He did not turn away from the fire, only his lips moved to form her name.

She tensed, but it did not occur to her not to answer him. "I'm here," she said softly, throwing off the spell and moving forward to just inside the doorway.

He raised his eyes to hers then, and she nearly cried out at the expression in them, the pain that was all the more vicious for its suppression, made sharper by the kindness that she could see beyond his suffering. "Come sit by me."

She obeyed, sitting down next to him with her trademark clumsiness, nearly knocking over the chair he was leaning against. He steadied it silently, his fingers gripping the wood too tightly and releasing it reluctantly, as if it were the only barrier still standing between him and despair.

"Remus," she said suddenly, knowing even as the words poured from her that he would not want to hear them, but unable to stop, "won't you—can't you please just—"

"Tonks," he said softly, not seeming to have heard her, "look at that fire."

She shook her head once, jerkily, but raised her gaze to the fire anyway. "What about it, Remus?" She didn't realize that she was flexing her fingers into claws and back again in one continuous, tense motion. "There's nothing special—"

"Do you know how many torches there are in this house?" Again, he didn't seem to be aware that she had spoken.

"No," she said slowly, beginning to worry. She couldn't remember what phase of the moon it was, nor whether disorientation was usually seen in werewolves around the time of their transformation—

"You don't know…" His voice was a whisper, his eyes more intent than ever on the flames. "I didn't know either, you see—but I counted, there are thirty-nine, I won't take them for granted again—"

"Remus," she said gently but urgently, "Remus, listen to me, are you all right?"

He seemed to awaken at last. "I'm sorry, Tonks, what have I been saying? Don't listen to my ramblings—you know better than to take an old man seriously, I'm sure—"

"You're not old." She had been expecting this, her chin was mutinous and her hair had changed to its most defiant orange shade.

"Tonks, please…don't make it harder for me than it is—" He couldn't meet her eyes, instead tracing the lines on the wooden floor with a fingertip.

"It doesn't have to be hard if you'd just stop being so _stupid_," she snapped, glaring at the top of his bowed head.

"Listen to me—"

"No, _you _listen, Remus, I've been listening too long! You know I love you, I've told you over and over, you just don't seem to hear me—I know you think you're too old for me, but it doesn't matter, I don't _care_—the only thing that could make me stop is if you tell me that you don't love me." She had said all this in one breath, afraid to stop lest she would lose her courage at the sight of his sloped shoulders, seeming so fragile in that one moment. "Can you say that?"

He raised his head, returning her piercing gaze. "No, I cannot." She drew in a sharp breath, ready to fling her arms around him, but he held up a hand. "No. Now it's my turn to talk. Will you listen?" She started to protest, but he cut her off. "If you will not, then there is nothing I can do, Tonks, but leave."

She nodded, letting her eyes say what he would not allow her to.

He turned away from her, back to the fire. "I've known you for two years, Tonks, since we both joined the Order—you always seemed so _young _to me, so innocent, and I thought I needed to protect you." He sighed. "I never thought—I had promised myself once that I would never grow too close to anyone—I knew that it was dangerous, too dangerous—I've broken my promise twice now…" He dropped his head into his hands.

Tonks gently laid a hand on his back, tentatively rubbing the fabric of his cloak, feeling the warmth of his skin under his fingers. "Remus…"

"No," he raised his head again, "let me continue." He took a deep breath. "So I wanted to protect you, and I thought that's all I wanted—but then you were so exuberant, so full of life and love, you seemed to shine light into every corner of my life and show me all the beautiful things in life that I never noticed. When I was with you, I felt younger, lighter…I didn't want to lose that." A bitter smile crossed his lips. "Again, I was selfish, just as I had been years ago—I should have stopped myself before it got this far."

Tonks was ripping the hem of her robes to shreds with her clawed fingers, but Remus didn't notice.

"But I thought it was just being in the Order that was comforting me, easing my sleep, causing me to wake up with a smile on my face, and I didn't realize…I couldn't see that it was you." His voice was trembling slightly now. "You were like fire, and I couldn't see it—"

She flinched at the mention of fire. "Remus," she said as calmly as she could, "what's all this about fire?" She bit her lip, afraid that he might start rambling again—

A slight glint of amusement lit his eyes as he looked at her, tilting his head slightly. "Tonks, don't worry—I'm quite sane," he said softly, reading her thoughts as he had done so many time before. "You'll understand if I explain—have you ever really thought about fire?"

Frowning slightly, Tonks shook her head slowly. "No…no, I don't think so. I mean, it's just…there."

Remus clapped his hands lightly together. "There, you've got it." She raised her eyebrows. "You see, you've never really thought about fire, you and everyone else always takes it for granted—but now watch." Taking out his wand, he flicked it almost carelessly towards the hearth.

Tonks gasped softly at the sudden and absolute darkness, instinctively reaching out towards him. "I can't see anything, Remus—"

"Exactly," he said softly, waving his wand once again at the fireplace, restoring the leaping flames. The light flickered on his face; his expression was unreadable as he turned to her. "You see, Tonks, you are my fire."

"I—I don't understand…" she faltered, for once unable to look into those brown eyes she loved so well.

"I need you, Tonks, I can't remember how I survived without you to be there every day of my life, I don't know how I could have found happiness without your smile to light it." He took her hand, gently stroking it with his fingertips. "I didn't realize it until you told me you loved me—it seemed then, that night, that every star was singing and the moon was smiling down at me." He slowly moved her hand back to her lap. "But then I remembered my promise, my vow never to love someone lest I hurt them—"

"You broke it once before, Remus!" Tonks burst out, frightened that she was losing him.

"Yes, I broke it once," he said, his eyes suddenly assuming a commanding air. "I broke it—and look where it led, Tonks, just look: Severus Snape nearly died—" Tonks snorted. "—yes, Snape, the most valuable spy of the Order, and there were several other incidents, near misses that still haunt me…" His shoulders slumped again dejectedly. "They could have died, do you understand? You could die—"

"You would never hurt me." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"But you don't know that," he replied, looking at her steadily. "I couldn't stop myself from attacking Sirius, nor Hermione, even Harry—even if I recognized you, Tonks, in my werewolf form, it's almost incontrollable."

"You said you can't live without me," she countered desperately, her eyes searching his face, frantically looking for any sign of surrender.

"I can't," he said simply. "I couldn't survive a day peacefully without you, Tonks—but I don't know if I could live an hour knowing that there was a possibility of me hurting you."

"What if I don't care?" Her nails were digging into the skin of her palms.

"If you don't care, I do," he said softly. "I care more than you can imagine. I care so much that I will deny my happiness—yes, and yours too, your life is more important than me—just to make sure that you live."

Tonks nodded slowly, pressing her lips together tightly. "I—I understand."

He leaned towards her, gently kissing her forehead. "Go to sleep now, Tonks."

She rose awkwardly, walking towards the door as quickly as she could, blinded by tears. _I won't give up, _she thought fiercely, _this is just the beginning—I won't let him go, I need him…_

Behind her, Remus was staring at the fire again, the image of Tonks' tearful eyes imprinted in his mind. It took all his willpower to keep from jumping up and calling out to her—_yes, she's my fire, _he smiled bitterly, _my light, my flame—she's ignited a fire that burns within me and cannot be quenched. _

The fire still flickered cheerily in the hearth, and with one swift movement, Remus extinguished it, flinging his wand into the ashes—and in the darkness, only the ticking of the clock and a few ragged sobs could be heard._

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**A/N: **The story came from a note I had jotted down on my MSWord file for random ideas: _Fire concept. Necessary but taken for granted, lights up everything and brightens everything into brilliance.She is his fire—but fire burns…_

So did you like it? Please review and tell me what you thought--and I love constructive criticism!


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